Taking me against the kitchen island. Lord, the man surpasses every fantasy I’ve ever dreamed up as a teenage girl with a crush.
“Hello, Emily,” Hank Nolan says with a grin.
“Hey.” I shake off the memories and smile at the security guard. The balding older man is the officer that Jake replaced when he returned to the police force. And my mother’s next-door neighbor. Small town.
“I didn’t realize you started working here.”
“I couldn’t hack it sitting at the kitchen table all day doing crossword puzzles.” He laughs as he scans the diaper bag. “I heard everything about baby Grace.” His face is solemn as he motions me to go through with the carrier. “Sad world we live in.”
“Yes, it is.” I pull the blanket off Grace as I shift the carrier in front of me, walking behind it as we pass through without the metal detector going off.
He studies the screen and then looks at Grace. “Beautiful girl. I’m glad you and Jake are taking good care of her.” He smiles as he hands me the bulging turquoise bag with the white-and-yellow daisy pattern. Thankfully, he doesn’t comment on the jumbled contents of the bag. “She’s in good hands.”
“Thank you. I just hope Judge Keller thinks the same.”
“Honey.” He shakes his head. “You have nothing to worry about. You two have the entire town on your side. That baby will have a blessed life.”
Hank’s words strangle some of the nerves trying to choke the life out of me as I stride toward the elevator and press the button for the third floor.
I’d take the stairs for some much needed steps but between Grace, the baby bag with everything from onesies inevery color, to formula, to those Boogie Wipes, which happen to be a third of the size of diaper wipes and do an amazing job of cleaning a baby’s nose, stuffed inside, combined with the carrier, I’m not up for the extra fifty pound workout.
“Emily.” Iris waves as I step off the elevator, motioning me to our grouping near Judge Keller’s chambers. “Over here.”
She chats with the guardian ad litem, juvenile officer, and a couple of women I don’t recognize. I swallow over the dryness in my throat. Is one of them Grace’s mother? I search their features for similarities. Surely, Iris would’ve said something if she’d been identified.
I unload my arms, dropping my items onto a nearby blue metal lobby chair, and retrieve Grace from her restraints.
“Oh, my, she keeps getting prettier.” Iris shakes her head and turns to Jasmine Greene, the guardian ad litem. “Isn’t she a doll?”
“Yes, she is.” Jasmine clutches her chest. “Look at those dark eyes and curls.” The women around them fawn over Grace.
Not so unlike Jasmine’s features. No, Jasmine wouldn’t abandon her baby on a doorstep, leaving her out in the cold. If she decided to give a baby up, she’d make plans. Do everything right. Jasmine is the kind of meticulous that would have everything in her diaper bag, in cute little containers, lined up.
While everything in mine is tossed around from when I was searching for an extra pacifier. You wouldn’t think it would be so hard to find one when I have five of them stashed inside.
Iris introduces me to the women I don’t know. They’re casework staff who drive in from the city, which is why I didn’t recognize them.
They continue to chat about different case dates and other appointments as I hold Grace tightly to my chest, inhaling her scent and kissing the top of her head as I scrutinize every person that steps off the elevator or comes from the stair landing while trying to disguise the death glare in my eyes with fake friendliness.
And hoping my face doesn’t freeze like this.
I want this over with. Now.
Grace whimpers against me as if she senses my distress. Shit. I force my muscles to relax. “Hold it together, baby,” I murmur against her hair. “Hold it together.”
The words are for me as much as they are for her because I don’t know if I can hold it together if she starts crying. Without bursting into tears myself.
The door to the courtroom opens. “We’re now serving the case for Baby Doe,” the court officer announces to the room. My hands shake as I shift Grace in my arms. “Be sure to silence your phones before entering.”
Right, my phone. You’re such a dumbass. I groan as I retrieve my phone from my back pocket. Why didn’t I think of that already?
A woman in jeans and a T-shirt comes off the elevator, and my heart lodges in my throat. She has dark curly hair and bottomless brown eyes. Like Grace. Her eyes dart from Grace to me, and then back to Grace.
I can’t move. I’m not even breathing.
“Jamie.” One of the caseworkers smiles and waves. “Over here.”
I’m going to throw up. Sweat pools in my armpits as the woman strides toward us.
